HalfDragon
by Shadowsong1
Summary: Three young elven rulers, all ironically related, go on a quest to complete Keaira, Kaganesti Queen's father's last words and 'sprout silver wings.'--COMPLETE--
1. A MessageThe Funeral

Half-Dragon  
  
Disclaimer: As far as I know, the only person in this story who belongs to me is Keaira. Everyone else belongs to TSR, and I do so solemnly swear to not harm them…until the next time.  
  
Prologue: A Message  
  
Silvanoshei, Speaker of the Stars, was sitting quietly, looking out at the shield. He still hadn't managed to convince the members of the councils to take it down.  
  
Silvanoshei!  
  
"What the-who are you?"  
  
I am Keaira.  
  
"And that would be…"  
  
That doesn't matter. I need you, Silvan! I need you, and I need Gilthas.  
  
"Who?"  
  
The Qualinesti king. Speaker of the Suns.  
  
"Why do you need both of us?"  
  
At the moment, that is unimportant. But hurry!  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
Southern Ergoth. And hurry!  
  
"I will. I promise."  
  
Thank you, Silvanoshei! Thank you!  
  
Chapter 1: The Funeral  
  
"Do you have any idea what this is about, Silvan?" Gilthas asked as they walked the wooded hills of Southern Ergoth.  
  
"I don't, Gilthas. I wish I did, however."  
  
At that moment, a young woman—at least, young by elven standards—wearing loose-fitting leggings, and a tunic leapt in front of them. She was blocking their path.  
  
"We are here to see Keaira," Gilthas announced nervously.  
  
"Who are you?" the young woman asked.  
  
"I am Gilthas of Qualinesti," Gilthas said.  
  
"I am Silvanoshei of Silvanesti," Silvan added.  
  
The young woman relaxed. "And I am Keaira."  
  
"Where are we? Who exactly are you?" Silvan asked.  
  
"We are in the hills of Southern Ergoth. I would think you would know that. As to who I am, I am Keaira, Speaker of the Moons, High Queen of the Kaganesti."  
  
"You're a Wilder elf??" Silvan asked.  
  
"My mother was one. My father was actually born Qualinesti."  
  
"Really?" Now it was Gilthas' turn to be interested.  
  
"Yes. And that is one reason I have called you here. I thought you might be able to identify him."  
  
"Then why did you call me here?" Silvan asked.  
  
"Two reasons. First, I want to be on friendly terms—an alliance of sorts, with my Silvanesti and Qualinesti cousins. Second, because of my fathers last words."  
  
"And they were?" Silvan asked, getting slightly annoyed.  
  
"Just a minute. It's time for the funeral to start."  
  
A few moments later, the three young elven rulers arrived in a clearing. It was empty, excepting a plain oak coffin.  
  
"My father," Keaira said quietly. It was then that Silvan and Gilthas noticed that her tunic and leggings were the dark purple elven color of mourning.  
  
"May we see?" Silvan asked.  
  
"That is why I asked you here."  
  
Silvan stepped cautiously up to the coffin. Inside was an elf, just in his prime, by the look of his features, but having seen much pain and suffering in his time. There also seemed to be something familiar about his face, but Silvan couldn't place it.  
  
"Farewell, King of the Kaganesti," Silvan said quietly.  
  
Gilthas stepped up to the coffin—and gasped. The man in the coffin closely resembled his mother!  
  
"Seek out your cousins, daughter," Keaira was whispering. "Seek out your cousins and sprout silver wings. Those were Father's last words."  
  
"What-what was your father's name?" Gilthas asked shakily.  
  
"I don't remember—wait! I remember! Mother used to call him Gilthanas!" 


	2. “There is magic in this world!”

Half-Dragon  
  
Chapter 2: "There is magic in this world!"  
  
Silvanoshei, Speaker of the Stars, King of Silvanesti, looked at his companions and sighed. Before the War of the Lance, no Silvanesti king would dream of going on a quest with a Qualinesti and especially a Kaganesti. But the War of the Lance had been over for more half a century. And the War of Souls had ended barely a year before.  
  
"I've told you before, Gilthas, we have to find the one who has lost faith in his infinite desire!" Keaira said, getting slightly exasperated.  
  
"Physically impossible. If it is a person's infinite desire, why would they lose faith?" Gilthas said, equally annoyed.  
  
"I can think of many," Silvan said dryly.  
  
"And the one I speak of approaches us now," Keaira said quietly, a slight smile playing on her lips.  
  
The three elven rulers had stopped. Gilthas and Silvanoshei were off, talking. The faithless one that Keaira had been seeking—Palin Majere—was off speaking with her.  
  
"I wonder what they're talking about," Gilthas remarked.  
  
"So do I," Silvan said, laughing slightly. "If there's one thing I've learned so far on this journey, it's that our cousin is not one to be trifled with. She means business."  
  
"She is a worthy leader," Gilthas agreed.  
  
Palin and Keaira were discussing magic. That is what Palin's infinite desire was.  
  
"There is no magic in this world!" Palin said in disgust.  
  
"There isn't?" Keaira said, looking faintly surprised.  
  
"There isn't! There is no more magic! The gods are gone, taking with them the magic, and the earth magic is failing and…"  
  
"There is magic, Palin!" Keaira said.  
  
"No, there isn't. You don't understand! You didn't experience the ecstasy that all the mages felt when drawing on the magic in the Fourth Age. You don't feel the pain, the agony, every time you touch a powerful element from the Fourth Age! You don't…"  
  
"You're right. I probably don't. But I do know something."  
  
"And what is that?" Palin asked bitterly.  
  
"I know that there is magic in this world. You just aren't looking in the right place."  
  
"And where might that right place be?" Palin asked sarcastically.  
  
"You are right. There is no magic in the moon. There is a very limited supply of magic here," she gestured to the ground. "The magic is in here." She placed her hand over his heart. "That is where the magic still lives."  
  
"Are you stark raving mad? What magic can there be?"  
  
"You, and the other mages of the Fourth Age, have always looked outside for your magic. Do you not know that the gods picked the mages because of certain qualities inside?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Now it is you who do not understand. The gods—Solinari, Lunitari, and Nuitari—chose their followers because of what was inside. True, you drew your power from their power. True, now you draw your power from the earth. But now your only power is that which is inside. You cannot look outside anymore. I may not have been a mage, but I lived during the end of the Chaos War. I was there when the gods left. I know what it is to live and lose. Your solace, your ecstasy, and now your agony, came from your magic. Mine came from my people—which are dying out as slowly and surely as the external magic. Perhaps you may never have the power, the dreams, the ambition you might have had during the Fourth Age, but you do have the magic. The magic that is inside."  
  
They relapsed into silence for a while. Then something hit him.  
  
"You were alive at the end of the Chaos War? And old enough to appreciate the losses we suffered?"  
  
"Yes. I was born shortly after the Battle of Neraka during the War of the Lance. Why?"  
  
"But—but how can you—be so—so young? Even for elves your age, you look—and act—young."  
  
"I have always aged even slower then my people. I don't know why."  
  
"I have another question for you."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Why did you seek me out? It couldn't have been to give me hope with this…magic…you speak of. Why?"  
  
"Because you are the one who lost faith in his infinite dream."  
  
"Why did you need someone like that? And why me, specifically? I know of many people who have lost faith in their infinite dream. Why me?"  
  
"Because I thought you would be able to help me."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Seek out your cousins, daughter," Keaira whispered. "Seek out your cousins and sprout silver wings."  
  
"What??"  
  
"Those were my father's last words. I thought you would be able to interpret them better than I."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I did the first part. I sought out my cousins," Keaira gestured to Gilthas and Silvan. "But I have no idea what the second half means. Sprout silver wings? How?"  
  
"I'm not sure….I don't know what it means. Perhaps…no, that's impossible."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Your father was an elf, right?"  
  
"That is correct."  
  
"Well, I thought that maybe…"  
  
"Maybe what?"  
  
"Maybe…your mother…no, it's a ridiculous idea."  
  
"Tell me," Keaira demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"Maybe your mother was a dragon. A silver dragon." 


	3. Laurana's Answers

Half-Dragon  
  
Chapter 3: Laurana's Answers  
  
Keaira, Gilthas, and Silvan walked silently through the forests of Qualinesti. Gilthas had a feeling that his mother would know something about it. Gilthas looked at his apparently younger cousin, and sighed. He had absolutely no idea what her father had meant by saying 'sprout silver wings.' But perhaps his mother knew.  
  
Lauranthasala was sitting in her garden, looking at the concealed entrance that had been used by Tas at the beginning of the War of Souls. She saw movement through the entrance. To her relief, her son stepped through. He was followed by another elflord, and a hooded young elf—female, most likely.  
  
"Gilthas," she cried.  
  
"I'm here, Mother."  
  
"Who are your friends?" she asked, suddenly remembering the other elves.  
  
"This is my cousin, Silvanoshei, Speaker of the Stars." Silvan bowed slightly.  
  
Laurana bowed in response. "I greet you, Speaker," she said quietly and respectfully.  
  
"I greet you, Princess Lauranthasala," Silvan responded.  
  
"And who is your other friend?" Laurana asked, gesturing to the girl.  
  
"This is Keaira, Speaker of the Moons, Queen of the Kaganesti," Gilthas said quietly.  
  
Keaira removed her hood, and met Laurana stare for stare.  
  
Laurana gasped. "You're the very image of—but it can't be. It just can't!"  
  
"Lady?" Keaira asked, looking concerned.  
  
"I'm all right. You're just so much like—what's your father's name, child?"  
  
"My father was Gilthanas, elflord of the Qualinesti."  
  
"Was?"  
  
"He died a few weeks ago, Lady."  
  
"Oh," Laurana said, looking very much upset. "He was my brother."  
  
"I know."  
  
"And you are…"  
  
"Your niece, lady."  
  
"Then I greet you—Keaira, was it?"  
  
"Yes, aunt."  
  
"Then, I greet you, Keaira."  
  
"Mother," Gilthas cut in.  
  
"What is it, Gilthas?"  
  
"We need your help."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Her father told her to contact us—Silvan and I—and to 'sprout silver wings.' Do you have any idea as to what he meant?"  
  
"Hmmm…I don't know. Wait a minute…"  
  
"What, Mother?" Gilthas was almost as eager as his cousin.  
  
"That wouldn't work…she would have had to have been born…When were you born, Keaira?"  
  
"Just after the War of the Lance, lady."  
  
"But you look so young…then again…"  
  
"Do you have any idea what Father meant by telling me to sprout silver wings?" Keaira looked very eager.  
  
"Well…during the War of the Lance, he fell in love with a Kaganesti woman. Well, we thought she was a Kaganesti. Her name was Silvart—no, Silvara."  
  
"You say you thought she was a Kaganesti," Silvan said slowly. "What do you mean?"  
  
"She was a dragon. A silver dragon."  
  
Gilthas and Silvan were shocked. "A—a dragon? Are you serious??" Silvan asked.  
  
"Very serious, Silvanoshei," Laurana whispered.  
  
"But—but how could a dragon look like a Kaganesti? Forgive me, lady, but it just seems absurd!"  
  
"We would have thought so, too. But Silvara was a dragon, and dragons can change their shapes."  
  
"They can?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"They can."  
  
"So, would Keaira be able to shape-shift?" Silvan asked.  
  
"We don't even know if Silvara is—or was—her mother. Is your mother still alive, Keaira?"  
  
"She disappeared around the time of the Chaos War, lady."  
  
"Then she could still be alive!" Laurana said, getting almost as excited as the young elven rulers. "Do you know where she disappeared to?"  
  
"Somewhere near Neraka, I believe, lady."  
  
They discussed plans for a few moments, and then decided that Gilthas, Keaira, and Silvan would go to the mountains in search of Silvara, in an attempt to find out if she was Keaira's mother. Laurana would stay behind and serve as regent for the Qualinesti, and attempt to arrange to be regent for the Silvanesti as well. She offered to serve as regent for the Kaganesti, but Keaira told her flatly that the Kaganesti needed no such thing.  
  
They left at dawn. 


	4. Silvara's Answers

Half-Dragon  
  
Author's Note: Here's more Half-Dragon. I'm really, really sorry it took so long in coming…but here it is…enjoy!  
  
Chapter 4: Silvara's Answers  
  
"We've been walking in these mountains for three weeks!" Silvan complained. "How much longer will it be, Keaira?"  
  
"Quiet," Keaira snapped. "We'll probably have to go all the way to the Valley of Death."  
  
"Isn't that quite a ways away?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"Actually, no," Keaira answered. "The Valley of Death is only about…12 meters to our right."  
  
"Good," Silvan said. "I'm SICK of walking."  
  
"You hush."  
  
"Seriously, Silvan, shut up! I really don't think we need any arguments today," Gilthas added.  
  
"Fine then," Silvan said, looking a little disappointed.  
  
About an hour later, they entered the Valley of Death—the resting place of the city Neraka.  
  
"I don't like this place," Gilthas said quietly. "It gives me the creeps."  
  
"Hush," Keaira said, listening. "Listen."  
  
Gilthas and Silvan listened. Crunch. Crunch. Footsteps on dry gravel. Crunch. Crunch. A slender figure stepped into the light. Instantly, Keaira was on her feet, holding the figure's head to the side, exposing the neck, which was being scratched with Keaira's dagger.  
  
"Please…" the figure whispered. "I mean you no harm!"  
  
Stunned, Keaira let go, dropping her dagger as she did so. "Mother?"  
  
The three young elves and the dragon were seated in a small cave in the mountains. Silvara looked at them, each in turn. Gilthas, named for his ill-fated uncle. Silvanoshei, named for his people. And Keaira—named for nobody in particular.  
  
"I am surprised to see you here, all of you," Silvara said quietly, waiting for the response that would tell her whether these were friends—or enemies.  
  
"Keaira summoned us. Me and Gilthas, I mean," Silvanoshei said.  
  
"Why are you here, Keaira?" Silvara asked.  
  
"Father died a few weeks ago, Mother."  
  
Silvara paled. "Gilthanas!" she whispered.  
  
Keaira put her arm around her mother's shoulder.  
  
"In fact, Lady Silvara," Gilthas said quietly, "That's what we wanted to talk to you about."  
  
"What do you mean?" Silvara asked.  
  
"When he died, Father told me to seek out my cousins—I've done that—and to 'sprout silver wings.' Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"  
  
"No…he shouldn't have told you…but, then, you deserved to know…"  
  
"Know what, Mother?"  
  
"Keaira, I am a dragon. A silver dragon."  
  
Keaira didn't seem surprised. "I know."  
  
"You—you know?"  
  
"I—I think I've always known."  
  
"Then that makes my task easier."  
  
"What do you mean, Mother?"  
  
"Keaira, my daughter, you know the gods left us at the end of the Chaos War and---"  
  
"We all know this, Lady," Gilthas said impatiently.  
  
"Very well then. You know of the seven gods of good, the seven gods of neutrality, and the seven gods of evil. You know of Chaos, the Father of All and Nothing. But…there was one other."  
  
"Who?" Silvan asked eagerly.  
  
"Takhisis had a twin sister, Moruadh. She was much like their father, except that where Chaos was fire, Moruadh was ice. Takhisis was insanely jealous of her twin. Moruadh had everything—she was her father's pet and plaything, beautiful, powerful, and the essence that bound the universe together. We could survive without Chaos. We could not survive without Moruadh.  
  
"But, as I said, Takhisis hated Moruadh. And the one thing that Moruadh could not fight was her own element—ice. Takhisis knew her twin's weaknesses, as she knew her strengths. Takhisis bound Moruadh in ice—no one knows where. Moruadh was the only one who could stand a chance against Chaos—she was the only one stronger. If Moruadh had not been entrapped during the Chaos War—we might very well still have our gods."  
  
"Why are you telling us about Moruadh? And how did you know?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"I knew because Paladine revealed this all to me just before he left. He knew that Moruadh could be our savior. All we need is someone to free her. She can help you. And she can help us all."  
  
"So, we must find this Moruadh?" Keaira asked.  
  
"Yes, daughter. You must find and free Moruadh. That is what you must do to follow your father's wishes. That is how you will 'sprout silver wings.'" 


	5. Draconian Blood

Half-Dragon  
  
Author's Note: As I'm sure you all know, Moruadh is my own creation—though the name, sadly, is not. Well…as far as I know…that's it! Enjoy this chapter!  
  
Part 5: Draconian Blood  
  
Keaira, Gilthas and Silvan walked around aimlessly.  
  
"Keaira, do you have any idea whatsoever as to where we might find this Moruadh?" Silvan asked, on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum.  
  
"No, I have no ideas at present, Silvan. Now, be quiet!" Keaira said, annoyed. She sighed. "We won't get any farther tonight. We'll have to make camp. We'll decide where to go next in the morning."  
  
"Who made you commander of this mission?" Silvan muttered sullenly.  
  
"What did you say?" Keaira asked quietly, dangerously.  
  
"I just wanted to know why you had to be in charge, Keaira," Silvan said, looking at her defiantly.  
  
Keaira smiled—a dangerous smile. "If either you or Gilthas had spoken up at the beginning of this whole affair, I would have gladly let you be in control. But it's a bit late now, don't you think?"  
  
Gilthas pulled Silvan aside. "That cousin of ours is dangerous. I wouldn't go out of my way to make her angry—rather the opposite. Seriously, Silvan, getting Keaira mad is practically certain death."  
  
Silvan grinned ruefully. "You're probably right. I'll shut up now."  
  
Midnight. Keaira was taking watch at this point. She stared listlessly out at the woods. She sighed. She felt so alone—even with her cousins only arms reach away. Crunch. She jumped up, and slipped over to Gilthas with elven grace.  
  
"Gilthas," she hissed.  
  
"What?" he whispered.  
  
"Wake up Silvan. I heard footsteps—and it doesn't feel friendly."  
  
"Got it."  
  
Keaira walked over to her sleeping roll and picked up her dagger. Crunch. More footsteps. She braced herself. A small troop of draconians—about 12—slipped out of the woods. They were hidden in the trees, so they saw the draconians, and the draconians didn't see them. She met Gilthas' eyes. Her eyes passed to Silvan. They were ready.  
  
"Four each," she mouthed. "Can you handle it?"  
  
They both nodded. She clutched her dagger. There were all Baaz draconians. She leapt forward, plunging her dagger into the closest one's flesh. She jerked it free just in time so it wouldn't get trapped when the body turned into stone. Gilthas and Silvan followed her lead. In a few minutes, they had killed six out of twelve draconians. There was a sharp cry of pain, and Silvan was down. Keaira cursed faintly. There was another sharp cry.  
  
"Damn it!" she muttered. She had lost Gilthas, too. Slash! Seven down, five to go. She spun in a tight circle, dodging a sword thrust of one of the remaining draconians. She didn't succeed—she caught it on her side. She cursed under her breath, stumbling backwards a bit.  
  
There was a flash of light—a reflection on a small dagger. I'm covered in blood—green blood, Keaira thought hazily. She saw the last draconian fall to the ground. She had the oddest impression of losing herself in the old silver moon—or was it the black one? She heard one thing, smiled at the irony, and then everything went black…  
  
Silvan's eyes opened. He attempted to sit up, but the world spun again, and he fell back.  
  
"Lie still. You got your head cut," Keaira's voice said quietly. It had an odd lilting character—almost Silvanesti, Silvan thought. Then a thought struck him.  
  
"Gilthas!" he whispered.  
  
"Is fine," she responded.  
  
"What about—what about you?"  
  
"I'm fine. I got hit in the side. We should all be fine now."  
  
Silvan looked halfway relieved, halfway upset.  
  
Keaira grinned.  
  
Another thought hit Silvan. "Did—did you drive the draconians away?"  
  
A slight pause. "No. No, I didn't."  
  
"Then who—or what did?"  
  
Keaira didn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment, Gilthas regained consciousness.  
  
"Where are the draconians?"  
  
"They're gone. Someone drove them back," Silvan answered.  
  
"What?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"I don't know," Keaira answered.  
  
` "Well, we might as well continue our search for that Moruadh person," Gilthas said.  
  
Keaira smiled. "And we'll look where we should have looked in the first place."  
  
"Where is that?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"Takhisis' home ground."  
  
"And that would be…" Silvan prompted.  
  
"Where do you think? The Abyss."  
  
"Well," Gilthas asked, "How do we get there?"  
  
"We go to Palanthas…"  
  
"And…"  
  
"And we enter the Portal." 


	6. Through the Door

Half-Dragon  
  
Part 6: Through the Door  
  
Disclaimer: It has come to my attention that this story doesn't really follow facts that Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (blessings upon them from Takhisis, Paladine, Gilean, Solinari, Lunitari, Nuitari, Saargonnas, Mishakal, and all the rest) have laid down for us. It has also come to my attention that I really don't care. I am aware of the fact that I have made innumerable mistakes, and that those mistakes belong to me…you can't have them. As we all know, nobody in this story except Keaira and Moruadh belongs to me. Enjoy this chapter…I hope…  
  
Keaira slipped through the streets of Palanthas, making her way to the center of the city. She motioned for Gilthas and Silvan to follow. They stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"Are you sure about this?" Silvan hissed.  
  
"Quiet! They'll hear you!"  
  
"Who?" Gilthas asked. "There's no one here."  
  
"Are you so sure?" Keaira asked.  
  
"Yes," Gilthas and Silvan said as one.  
  
Keaira rolled her eyes. "There is no one here that is visible to our eyes…but they remain."  
  
"Who is 'they'?" Silvan asked.  
  
"The Guardians of the tower…"  
  
A few minutes later, Keaira, Gilthas, and Silvan arrived at the edge of what used to be the Shoikan Grove.  
  
"Pass forward without fear," said Keaira, and yet the voice was not hers. Silvan and Gilthas obeyed. They soon arrived at the base of the remains of the Tower of High Sorcery.  
  
Keaira blinked, and began to sort through the rubble. "It's got to be around here somewhere!" she muttered, and began to dig.  
  
"What?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"Hush!"  
  
"What are you looking for?" Silvan asked.  
  
"Hush!"  
  
"Keaira's acting just a little strange…" Silvan muttered to Gilthas.  
  
"Found it!" Keaira cried triumphantly.  
  
"Now will you tell us what it is?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"It's just a doorway." Silvan said disappointedly. It was a smooth, oval doorway. There were jagged cracks along the edges, as if something had been violently ripped from it.  
  
"Silvan's right. What could possibly be in there? What is that, anyway?" Gilthas asked.  
  
"You'll see. Thank the old gods, the door's still open. Coming?" Keaira walked through the doorway, and disappeared.  
  
"Keaira!" Gilthas called.  
  
"Here we go again," Silvan added. He looked at Gilthas, shrugged, and together, they entered the doorway…  
  
Everything was white…  
  
And then everything was black. (A/N: All of you should know what this doorway is…it will become apparent soon enough, if you don't.)  
  
"Gilthas! Gilthas! Wake up!" Gilthas felt someone slapping him gently.  
  
"It's too early, Mommy…I don't wanna get up…" he muttered.  
  
"Gilthas!" He opened his eyes, to Keaira staring at him. "Oh, good, you're awake. Silvan's already up."  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"Look around you. Find out."  
  
Gilthas looked around. "Some sort of desert…"  
  
"Guess again."  
  
"Are you sure it isn't a desert? It certainly looks like one…" Silvan commented.  
  
"Guess again."  
  
"I still say it's a desert…"  
  
"Wrong," a soft, smooth, dark voice said quietly, from right behind Gilthas. Gilthas and Silvan spun around, to face a tall, muscular, dark haired elf in black robes.  
  
"Then where are we, sir?" Gilthas asked tentatively.  
  
"He has a name," Keaira pointed out.  
  
"Who are you, and where are we??" Silvan and Gilthas asked in unison.  
  
"I was known as Dalamar the Dark, and you are in the old Abyss."  
  
(A/N: Don't we all love Dalamar? I can only think of one mage I like more…I hope you enjoyed this chapter…now I have to go…I have to…I have to… ::leaves the computer and slips into room…opens closet, and kneels down in shrine to Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman, the other writers of Dragonlance, Kit, Dalamar, Takhisis, and her absolutely FAVORITE mage…ya know him, ya love him…give it up for…RAISTLIN!!!!!!) 


	7. And Then There Were Five

Half-Dragon  
  
Disclaimer: Nobody belongs to me.with the exceptions of Keaira and Moruadh, of course. Everyone else belongs to Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman (ALL PRAISE THE GODS OF KRYNN!!!! AND DON'T FORGET MARGARET AND TRACY!!!) Anyway.enjoy this chapter!  
  
Part 7: And Then There Were Five  
  
"You're Dalamar???" Silvan managed to gasp out. "We're in the ABYSS??????" Gilthas shouted at the same second. "That is correct. Now I would like to know why you are here," Dalamar said, and plopped himself down on the ground, looking up at them. "We seek the resting place of Moruadh," Keaira whispered. "Moruadh? The 23rd god?" "Goddess." "Same difference." "I suppose. Yes, that's right. Do you have any idea of where we might find her?" "Hmmm.no, not really," Dalamar paused. "But I think I know of one who might." "Who?" Keaira said eagerly. "He might not want to see you.but then, he might. One never knows, not with him." "Can you take us to him?" Dalamar thought this over. "I could." "Will you?" "Oh.very well. Let's go."  
  
The man whom Dalamar spoke of was sitting alone in his little area of the Abyss. He.felt.Dalamar approaching. There was no other way to say it. "Enter, Dalamar." "Greetings." "Greetings." The man saw Keaira, Silvan, and Gilthas behind Dalamar. His eyes narrowed in surprise and mild displeasure. "Who are they that dare trespass here?" "I apologize for bringing them without your permission, but their mission is urgent." "Go on." "The world is again in danger." The man smiled sarcastically. "And what do I care for the world? The world never cared for me." "You helped the world before." "The circumstances were different. Introduce me to your.unusual companions." "Very well. This is Silvanoshei, King of Silvanesti." The man smiled cynically. (A/N: Now you really should know whom our friend here is.) "Greetings Silvanoshei of Silvanesti. Who are the others?" "This is Gilthas, King of Qualinesti." "Your father was Tanis Half-Elven, correct?" Gilthas was mildly taken aback. "Yes, sir, but." "I see. And the third?" "This is Keaira, Queen of Kaganesti." The man blinked in surprise. It was only a flicker, but he could tell that Keaira saw it, even though she couldn't see his face. "Greetings, Keaira of Kaganesti." "Greetings," she said quietly. "Well, Dalamar? Why did you bring them to me?" "They seek Moruadh. I thought that you might know where she is." "And if I do? Why would I tell them?" "You know as well as I do." "You are correct. I do know why I should help them," he sighed. "Very well." He turned to Keaira. "I will help you find Moruadh." "Thank you, sir," Keaira said. "Might I inquire as to whom you are?" "You might.but that doesn't mean I'll tell you." Keaira rolled her eyes. "Then what point would there be in asking?" "None." "Exactly." "Then why are we even discussing this?" "You tell me." "You're impossible." "So are you."  
  
(A/N: Tee-hee.I like how this relationship is starting.it'll only prove to be more interesting as it goes on.I hope!!) 


	8. The Body in the Ice

Half-Dragon  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Moruadh and Keaira. I also own this plotline. Anything else.I wish!!!!  
  
Part 8: The Body in the Ice  
  
They wandered in the Abyss for what felt like years, though their mysterious companion told them they had really only been there for a few days. And that mysterious companion..there was something about him, a strange aura, one so powerful that not even Silvan was complaining, which was a first. Dalamar was strangely silent. He seemed to be avoiding their mysterious companion. He usually walked near Silvan, asking after Silvanesti. Silvan didn't have much to tell, since it had been nearly five months since he had last seen the ancient elven homeland. Gilthas walked alone. He kept his head bowed, thinking of all that had passed since he set out on this strange adventure. He wondered why he had ever left Qualinesti. "Because Moruadh called to you," the mysterious companion said. "And Moruadh's is a call no one can resist." Gilthas jumped when he heard the voice. "I wish you wouldn't do that." "Do what?" "Sneak up on me like that. If you must know, it's rather unnerving." "Exactly why I do it. One might say that I enjoy unnerving people. I always have." His eyes flicked to Keaira. They seemed to do so often these days. Gilthas rolled his eyes. "Have you ever considered that people don't enjoy being unnerved?" "Perhaps I have. Perhaps I have not." The mysterious companion melted into the shadows. Gilthas groaned. "I really wish he wouldn't do that," he muttered. "Don't we all," Silvan whispered. Suddenly, Keaira stopped walking. "Is it just me, of has it suddenly gotten a whole lot colder?" "It's gotten colder," the mysterious companion said softly. "We are very near." Was it just Keaira, or did he seem very tense all of a sudden? She sighed. He was their guide, and she was very nervous if he was afraid. Keaira slipped up so she was walking next to the mysterious companion. "You seem nervous," she said softly. "What is troubling you." "I am not nervous. Nothing is troubling me!" he snapped. Keaira blinked. "Yes, there is something troubling you. What is it?" "Nothing is troubling me!!!" he hissed angrily. "Suit yourself," she said. She turned and walked away. Why did I snap at her like that? He asked himself. I do it to everyone else. I guess it's just a habit. A bad habit. I've never met anyone quite like her.not even.. He shook his head. He shouldn't think of her, not now. He closed his eyes. Abruptly, he opened them again. "This way," he said curtly, leading the four elves off the path. Dalamar looked questioningly at him. He shook his head slightly, conveying quite clearly that nobody should ask questions. He was not in the mood.  
  
Keaira watched her strange guide closely. She knew he'd notice eventually and probably snap at her and say something hurtful, but she didn't care. She was confused as to her feelings towards him. He aggravated her, but still.she shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be in love with someone who obviously was at home in the Abyss. For all she knew, he could be the infamous Raistlin Majere himself! She caught her breath. What if he was? She shook her head wearily. This place was beginning to tell upon her. She wasn't comfortable here, in this place of pure darkness. Why, oh why, had she had to go looking for Moruadh? And why did he have to be her guide? She was very nearly positive that he was Raistlin Majere. And there was only one way to find out.  
  
"Dalamar?" Dalamar jumped. He spun around, and was very surprised to see Keaira. "What is it, Lady Keaira?" "I'm not a lady." "Depends on your definition of lady." Keaira sighed. "I do not need to get into that argument again." Dalamar smiled. "I'm sorry. What was it you wanted to know?" "Is our guide Raistlin Majere?" Dalamar paled. "What makes you think that?" Keaira smiled. "Lucky guess? Intuition? So am I right or not?" Dalamar swallowed, and glanced around. He lowered his voice to the whisper that was his Shalafi's signature. "Yes. He is the Shalafi. Don't tell Gilthas or Silvanoshei." Keaira relaxed. "Of course not." Suddenly there was a shout from Silvan. "What now?" Dalamar muttered, as he and Keaira raced to the sight. Silvan was dead white. He was staring with horror at what looked like a glass case. "What is it?" Keaira asked. Silvan pointed. Keaira walked up to the case, and gasped. Inside, perfectly preserved, was the body of a young woman with white hair. She wore robes that were always pale, but the color was never distinct. Her ice-blue eyes were open in shock and pain and betrayal. "Gods." "Moruadh," Raistlin whispered.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: They found Moruadh!!! In the next chapter, they'll wake her up. Her gifts might come then, as well. I'm not sure. We'll see! I'll try to have this finished over the next couple of weeks. Happy Holidays!!! 


	9. Moruadh's Gifts

Half-Dragon  
  
Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I don't own anyone except Moruadh and Keaira. I also own this plotline. Anything else.I wish!!!! Either this chapter will be the last, except for closing author's notes. Looking forward to your reviews!!!  
  
Part 9: Moruadh's Gifts  
  
Raistlin blasted the ice sarcophagus with his magic. He swore. There was no effect. Dalamar tried his hand at it. He, too, failed. Silvan tried his luck with his bow, Gilthas with his sword. They, too, failed.  
  
"Your turn, Keaira," someone said. She felt-strange is the only word for it. She felt as if she was at one with the body in the ice. She walked over to it. "Arise, Ice-Sister," she whispered in elven, touching the ice lightly. To her shock-and the shock of all the others present-the ice disappeared.  
  
Moruadh rose. "Thank you, Ice-Sister," she said, in a voice as cold as ice, as sweet as death, as fulfilled as life. The five pilgrims-for they could only be called that-dropped to their knees in the face of this beautiful goddess. "Thank you for freeing me, Ice-Sister," she said softly, lightly touching Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes flicked to the four men. "You helped her reach this place. To all of you, therefore, I bestow gifts: the most secret, guarded desire of your heart." The five pilgrims gasped as one. "I reward those who help me," she said with a smile. She turned to Silvanoshei. "Rise, Silvanoshei," she said. He did so, tremblingly. He met the goddess' white-blue eyes. She smiled gently. "You needn't be afraid, Silvanoshei. I will not hurt you. I only intend to give you a gift: Silvanoshei, King of Silvanesti, I present you with the power of Memory. You are now able to, at your will, call upon all the memories of all the elves living and dead on Krynn. That means you remember everything the first elf knew, and everything the elves just being born know. That is the gift I give you."  
  
Silvan sighed. He knew he had knowledge-knowledge equaled by none-not even Fistandantilus himself.  
  
Moruadh turned to Gilthas. "Rise, Gilthas." He did so, coming forward with some trepidation. Not as much as Silvan, for he had seen what great power the goddess had. He had also seen that she would not hurt him. "Gilthas, King of Qualinesti, I present you with the power of Empathy. You are now able to sense and identify the emotions of all beings within a fifty mile radius. Of course, you can block this out when it is hurting you, Gilthas, but the power is yours until the end of your days. That is the gift I give you."  
  
Gilthas sighed. He now sensed the emotions of all present. The deep thankfulness of Silvan, the hope trembling on ecstasy of Dalamar, the tangled, mixed emotions of Keaira, and the not-quite-namable emotions of the mysterious companion. Suddenly, he realized who that companion was. Raistlin Majere.  
  
"Rise, Dalamar Argent." He did so. He came forward, halfway between eager and afraid. Moruadh smiled. "Dalamar Argent, also known as Dalamar the Dark, I present you with your old magic. You have all the power, all the knowledge, you once had. This gift is yours for as long as you shall live. That is the gift I give you."  
  
Dalamar sighed. He could feel the magic coursing through his veins once more. It called to him, shrieked to him, begged to be used. Later, he told the magic. Later I will draw upon you. I want it as much as you want it. It was only later that he realized how ludicrous it was. He was so ecstatic to have the magic back that he was speaking to it, as if it was a living being. He returned to his place in the semicircle, kneeling with even greater reverence than before as he watched Raistlin be presented with his gift.  
  
"Rise, Raistlin Majere," Moruadh said. Gilthas gasped. Keaira glared at him and elbowed him in the side. Moruadh hid her smile. Raistlin came forward at Moruadh's command. For several long moments, Moruadh did not speak. She merely regarded Raistlin intently, as if seeking the true motive behind his desire. She sighed. For the first time she gave a gift, she did not smile. She looked rather grim. "Raistlin, the gift you ask of me with heart, soul, and eyes, I cannot grant." Raistlin looked at her in shock and in a kind of pain even he hardly knew.  
  
"Why?" he asked  
  
Moruadh smiled. It was a pained smile. "For two reasons. First, once granted, it will be taken away as a result of another gift. Second,"-and here she smiled truly-"it has already been granted to you."  
  
Raistlin looked at her in shock and confusion. Suddenly, comprehension dawned on him. "It-it has already been granted?" he whispered.  
  
Moruadh nodded.  
  
Keaira met Raistlin's eyes. She read the emotion in his eyes. The love in his eyes. With a wild cry, she flung herself into his arms. He held her gently, almost tenderly.  
  
Moruadh tapped Keaira on the shoulder. Her eyes were sad. "Ice- Sister, you have much to learn of love. And yet, you, too, have a gift that needs granting. Keaira, you came here for one reason and one reason only: to sprout silver wings. You are half-dragon. Dragons neither bear nor die as easily as do any of the other races of Krynn. Your mother went through living hell-a hell unimaginably worse than the one we stand in now-to give you birth. Yet you are half-dragon. You are torn between the two races, as are beings such as Tanis Half-Elven. You are 'half of two things and all of nothing.' Yet you ask me to help you sprout silver wings." Moruadh sighed. "Ice-Sister, I do what you ask. Keaira, you will sprout silver wings."  
  
Keaira rose off the ground on the force of Moruadh's power. She felt an inexpressible pain in her back. She suddenly had the horrible feeling of being "half of two things and all of nothing." She was being torn apart and put back together in all the wrong ways.  
  
She gently flapped her scaled silver wings. Something was wrong.she should be all dragon at this point.  
  
She met Moruadh's eyes.  
  
She saw tears.  
  
She met Dalamar's eyes.  
  
She saw the ecstasy of regaining his magic.  
  
She met Silvan's eyes.  
  
She saw the compassion born of memory.  
  
She met Gilthas' eyes.  
  
She saw the compassion born of empathy.  
  
She met Raistlin's eyes.  
  
She saw death.  
  
She fell.  
  
She heard Raistlin scream.  
  
She smiled.  
  
She stretched out her hand to him.  
  
She died.  
  
* * *  
  
Raistlin ran to the fallen half-dragon. She was at peace. She was truly dead. Unbidden, the image of another woman who had reached out to him in death filled his head. He realized he was crying. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He shuddered, for that hand was colder then ever the spellbooks of Fistandantilus were. He looked into Moruadh's eyes.  
  
Moruadh met the mage's eyes. She knew what she had to do. She began to sing softly:  
  
Nighttime, the nighttime  
  
Embraces your soul.  
  
Sleep, soul, alone without  
  
Light.  
  
Sleeping forever,  
  
My mage, you will be.  
  
In the night's warm, dark  
  
Embrace.  
  
Tears, the tears,  
  
Like a river of blood  
  
Running down lover's  
  
Lane.  
  
So hush now,  
  
Little mage,  
  
The night longs for you.  
  
Tell her,  
  
Oh, tell her,  
  
You're mine.  
  
Raistlin closed his eyes and slipped into dreamless sleep, a dreamless sleep that would last forever. Moruadh gently arranged Keaira and Raistlin so they would spend their eternal sleep in each other's arms. She then spoke a word in the language of the gods, and they were encased in ice. With another word, she turned the entire area into a beautiful, bitter, painful, loving cage of ice. With yet another word, she brought the ice cave to the outside world.  
  
Gilthas, Silvan, and Dalamar left the cave. The grave of Keaira Half- Dragon and Raistlin Majere was now sacred to Moruadh. In future centuries, people from all over Krynn would travel to the site to pray to the great goddess for blessings such as those two had known in the last moments of their life.  
  
As Moruadh left the shrine, she turned to the grave. She stared down at Keaira and Raistlin for a moment. She sighed. "Farewell, Ice-Sister," she whispered.  
  
And then she was gone. 


	10. Author's Notes

Half-Dragon  
  
Author's Notes  
  
Thank you to all of my reviewers: Hao, Wild-Melody, The Golden Dragon, and jedismuggler.  
  
A special thanks to my friend Heather, who actually IMed me after reading this story.  
  
As always, thanks to Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman, and all the other Dragonlance people for creating Dragonlance.  
  
If you have any questions about this story, or you want me to do a sequel, email me at EleanorGB@aol.com  
  
If you liked this story and are interested in reading my other Dragonlance story, check out "The Chosen."  
  
Thanks to all my readers!!!  
  
~~~Shadowsong~~~ 


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